


Beau Would Like to Rage

by Violetrayofsunshine



Category: Critical Role (Web Series), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Beau could have been a barbarian in another life, Beau has Feelings and she doesn't know how to deal with them, Blood and Injury, Caleb takes care of Beau, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Cathartic ass-kicking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Goblin Mom Nott, Hurt/Comfort, I'm still not over Molly okay and neither is Beau, Is healing violence a thing?, It is now, Lorenzo (mentioned), Mollymauk Tealeaf (mentioned) - Freeform, Team Human, Team Human slowly learning how to be people, Tieflings, Tired Dad Fjord, critical role - Freeform, except I'll probably add a sequel that's not canon compliant at all, mlm/wlw solidarity, the mighty nein - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 16:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15845460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Violetrayofsunshine/pseuds/Violetrayofsunshine
Summary: While on a mission for the Gentleman, the Mighty Nein are after a band of thieves and traffickers again and it reopens some emotional wounds that never healed for some of them. Everyone's favorite monk refuses to talk about her feelings. She engages in some cathartic ass-kicking instead.AKA: Beau and Caleb learning to help each other through their PTSD





	Beau Would Like to Rage

It was supposed to be a simple mission. The Gentleman was paying them handsomely to break into an enemy’s stronghold and rescue one of his agents who had been kidnapped. They were allowed to free anyone else they found, encouraged even, as he liked anything that would anger his competition. They were little more than bandits, not even as skilled as the Iron Shepherds has been, but the resemblance in some was uncanny. Beau could feel Jester tense up next to her the deeper they got into the cave. The dim, eerie lighting and long, winding passageways surely reminded the tiefling of her time in captivity with Lorenzo. If she strained her ears, Beau thought she could even pick up the faint sounds of screams in the distance. They came to a sudden stop as the tunnel suddenly split off into three directions.

  

“That could be a problem,” came Caduceus’ slow drawl. She rolled her eyes.

  

“Alright, it looks like we’ll have to do this in pairs if we want to keep the element of surprise,” Fjord said matter-of-factly. If one didn’t know him, they wouldn’t think he was bothered at all by their surroundings. But Beau noticed the unusually tight grip he had on his sword, the way his eyes darted quickly all around the chamber, and the way every muscle was coiled as if ready to spring into action at any moment. The half Orc was better at hiding it, but he was no less affected by their imprisonment than Jester was.

  

“How about Jester and Nott, you and Caduceus, and Caleb and me? That way the magic, muscle, and squishiness is all pretty balanced out,” Beau offered. Fjord nodded agreeably. Nott looked sideways at Caleb, skeptical of leaving him with anyone but herself, until Jester pasted on a grin that would have fooled almost anyone and bent down to hold her shoulders.

  

“Nott! The best ever detectives are on the case again!” she exclaimed. The goblin cracked a toothy smile and reached for Jester’s hand, starting to head off toward the far left tunnel.

  

“Meet back here in fifteen minutes! Send us a message if you find anything!” Caleb called at their retreating backs. Caduceus and Fjord shrugged almost simultaneously, giving the remaining two a parting glance and a wave as they took the central tunnel.

  

“Here goes…something, probably,” Beau muttered, trudging toward the final tunnel on the right. Caleb followed reluctantly behind her. They walked for several minutes in silence, Beau having pulled her goggles down over her eyes to see better while Caleb sent up a globule of light so that he wouldn’t trip. They only passed boulders and the occasional cargo crates piled unceremoniously along the tunnel wall. Normally he would not have minded the quiet, but it felt cold and unfriendly with the monk so solemnly leading the way.

“Are you…alright, Beauregard?” he asked tentatively.

“Fuckin’ peachy,” she grumbled, not turning back. She felt twitchy and uneasy, her thoughts drifting back to their fight with the Iron Shepherds no matter how much she tried to prevent it…and she did _not_ want to talk about that with Caleb – or anyone, really.

  

“Um…alright,” Caleb said quietly. He knew pushing her would only result in bruises or a broken nose for himself.

  

They walked on for a few moments more before she came to a grinding halt.

  

“Do you hear that?” she said, barely audible.

  

“Hear what?”

Beau crouched down, so he did the same, and they slowly made their way forward along the wall until she stopped at a particularly large wooden box. She lightly rapped her knuckles on it, and they both realized it didn’t sound quite right: as though there were much more empty space inside than there should have been. She felt around the edges until she was able to pry it open to reveal a hidden entrance into an offshoot of the tunnel.

  

“Good work!” Caleb said encouragingly, but she just shushed him and motioned for him to follow. They could hear noises now, singing and shouting in the far distance. Caleb felt like there were butterflies in his stomach. It made him think of Caduceus’ insects, which made him feel even worse. He put out his dancing light, and they quietly darted around the edges of the room as it opened into a larger, cavernous space. The two kept to the sides, hiding in shadow, as they tried to get a better look at their targets. The thugs were mostly sitting around a fire, mugs in hand, acting like normal drunken idiots. They were surrounded by crates and boxes of all sizes, as well as… _cages_. Caleb had known this was a likely scenario, but he had still been unprepared for the sight of grown, living beings being treated like cattle, or worse. The thugs had captured humans, elves, orcs, goblins, a Tabaxi, and even a Dragonborn. Beau pushed up her goggles again, squinting into the dim light for the face of their target: a blonde half elven woman named Nessa.

  

Beau was scanning the cavern for golden hair and pointed ears when a flash of indigo caught her eye. She followed the line of the long, thin tail, ending in a heart shaped point, and felt the bottom of her stomach drop out. For a moment, all she could see was Molly on the ground, his tail permanently still, with Lorenzo grinning above him. Shaking herself, her gaze traveled further to find a dark violet tiefling unconscious on his back, wrists bound, face bruised. One of the man's horns was half missing, the remaining stump jagged and burned. Blood was oozing down onto his brow, but she couldn't tell if it was from the horn or some other head injury. His clothes were a mess, riddled with holes and rust colored stains. There were blood stains beneath him, particularly concentrated near his head. The other prisoners were in rough shape as well, but none so bad as this one. The rest were huddled in cages, or crouched along the back wall, hunched over together as though hoping their captors might forget about them. For all Beau knew, that was their plan. She wondered if the prone man had drawn too much attention to himself, and it immediately brought two other tieflings to the front of her mind.

  

Caleb had moved on, peering around another crate to the right as far as he dared. He was starting to get worried; what if they'd come all this way and the Gentleman's agent wasn't even here? Hopefully they'd be able to go back out the way they came, the crew of bandits none the wiser. Perhaps some of the others had found the half elven woman.

  

"I don't think she's here," he whispered to Beau.

  

"Maybe she's just hard to see in one of those cages?" the monk replied.

  

"Possible, but not likely. We need to go back and regroup with the others; we are almost out of time."

  

"What, and just leave all these people here?"

  

"We might be able to come back for them later. As it is now, we are very much outnumbered," Caleb said with a grimace.

  

“We’re _not_ just abandoning them here!” Beau snapped heatedly, thinking of when they’d found their friends in cages just like these.

  

Caleb looked taken aback at her tone. As he opened his mouth to reply, they heard shouting from the circle around the fire and both turned to look. The tiefling had awoken, and seemed to have been trying to crawl away, pulling himself forward by his elbows.

  

The one who appeared to be the ringleader of the group was a tall Goliath in dirty leather armor, with an axe where his forearm should be, the metal driven into the gnarled stump. He had his foot pressed into the tiefling's spine, pushing the man's body into the dirt, a disconcerting leer spreading across his face.

  

"Well, boys, I don't think he's had enough yet! Looks like he needs... _another_ _lesson_!" the man said, unsheathing a wicked looking dagger from his belt.

  

At that line, Beau saw red. There was no way she was going to let this happen again. These sons of bitches were going to die. Her muscles took over then, propelling her to her prey. Beau’s mind went blank and numb, allowing her reflexes and years of training to work faster than her brain ever could. 

  

Caleb tore his eyes from what would undoubtedly be a brutal scene to tell his friend that they ought to leave _now_ , when the gang was distracted. He would have done so, except she was no longer anywhere near him. With dawning horror, the wizard watched as Beauregard sprinted across the cavern, her staff out in front of her. All eyes were on the leader and the tiefling, but in exactly two and three eighths of a second, he knew that giant stick was going to meet with a skull. Frantically, he began to count just how many opponents they were about to have.

 

_Eins, zwei, drei..._

 

\- CRACK! -

 

"What the hell - ?!"

 

_Vier, funf, sechs..._

 

\- CRUNCH! -

 

"How did she get in here?!"

 

"Who the fuck IS she?!"

 

_Sieben, acht, neun..._

 

\- THWACK! -

 

_Nein, make that acht again..._

 

It took a moment for Caleb's muscles to catch up with his brain. Beauregard was making remarkable progress but she was still only one person against nine (eight, he corrected himself, noting the probably concussed swordsman now on the ground). Trying to remain hidden behind his crate, he sent a a gout of flame at the Orc she'd already stunned with her first attack, setting his clothes alight.

 

Beau jumped off the log the unconscious swordsman had been sitting on, spinning in the air and knocking the spear out of another bandit's hand. She kicked him in the crotch and punched him in the face when he bent over in pain. His eyes rolled back in their sockets and she shoved him the rest of the way down. A few feet away, Caleb was attacking the Orc she'd used her stunning strike on first.

_'Three down, six to go.'_

Beau swung with her staff and knocked an arrow away that an archer had sent in her direction, then used the same swing to crack the nearby Tabaxi's ribs. She flipped backwards and landed outside the circle of logs, narrowly missing the hammer headed towards her spine. Flames engulfed the offending dwarf who'd tried to kill her, and she nodded to Caleb appreciatively. She leaped to the left, thrusting her staff forward into a red headed human's stomach like a javelin and emptying his lungs of air.

 

From behind his crate, Caleb could see a dark skinned human searching in the dark for the source of the flames. She started to run when she spotted him. He pulled out his copper wire.

 

Beau caught an arrow as it flew past her, and used it to stab the red head in the throat when he started to catch his breath.

 

_'Five,'_ thought Beau.

 

The Tabaxi raked his claws down the side of her neck, his other hand coming up to strike with a dagger, and Beau used the opportunity to grab around his elbows. Surprising him, she pulled his arms down in front of him in a dark parody of a hug and shoved all of her weight forward, bringing them both to the ground in a body slam and forcing the dagger into his own gut.

 

"Four," she muttered to herself as she rolled sideways to avoid the axe the ring leader brought down. The Goliath let out an incomprehensible yell. Beau jumped up and caught sight of the dark skinned woman going after Caleb. She felt her blood run cold. She took off after her, hurling a rock at her armored back to distract her, but to no avail. The wizard sent a fireball at her, but she dodged it. The woman lifted her spiked mace and swung with unbelievable speed. Caleb ducked back to avoid it, but she lunged forward and the weapon caught his side, almost knocking him flat. Clutching his ribs with one hand and bracing himself against the crate with the other, he looked up in fear as she raised the mace again - only to be knocked forwards as Beau tackled her from behind. They wrestled on the ground, pummeling each other, weapons abandoned. Beau felt her teeth cut her lip as she took a fist to the jaw.

 

Suddenly it felt to Beau as though time had slowed down. She felt stronger, faster. Her rage grew with her power, and she picked the woman's mace up by the wrong end, ignoring the spikes digging into her hands, and brought it down directly onto the woman's face. Blood spattered everywhere.

 

"Three," Beau said, spitting out a mouthful of red saliva. Caleb's eyes were wide and round. She hadn't seen him look so horrified since...well. She knew exactly when. Thinking of Lorenzo again rekindled her fury. Beau leapt backwards, propelling herself upward with her hands, and darted once more toward the camp fire. She made it in half the time thanks to Caleb's spell.

 

The leader was once more aiming the knife at the tiefling, who hadn't gotten very far during the fray. Up close, she could see that his leg was broken. Beau headed for the two of them when she was stopped by an arrow in the shoulder. Yanking it out with a snarl, she turned to see that the archer had climbed atop a particularly tall crate and was readying another arrow.

 

"Do you think you're safe from me up there?" Beau asked coldly. The woman loosed the bolt, but she wasn't fast enough this time. Beau sprinted to the crate faster than should have been possible, then jumped with both arms and legs thrust forward, putting all of her energy against the wood. The crate toppled down with a crash. The archer barely had time to process what had happened before Beau swung the staff into her skull with all of her might.

 

'Two,' she thought, turning on her heel to face her remaining opponents. The tall elf had been relatively still throughout the battle, staying close behind their leader. Beau wasn't sure if he was protective or cowardly. On another day, she might have cared. The elf reached for his sword, and she rushed forward.

 

Caleb knew he should help. Even if fire was too dangerous, there were other tricks that might help. But he was frozen. He'd cast the haste spell on his friend, and after that it was like he was watching from outside of his body, cold and detached. He'd never seen her like this before.

 

Yasha's rage paled in comparison to the fury Beauregard was unleashing. She was a whirling dervish of violence and hatred. Caleb looked on as she pulled the long sword from the dumbfounded elf's grip with her bare hands, flinging it to the ground, not even flinching when her palms came away bloody. Her fists came down on the elf's body everywhere she could reach, denting his armor; surpassing the usual "flurry" of blows and instead becoming more like a hail storm. The elf put up his arms defensively, ducking his head, and kicked her feet out from under her. She stumbled and the elf took the opportunity to punch her in the face, breaking her nose and sending her sideways. Beau caught herself and rolled off into a somersault.

 

When she looked up, the leader's curved blade was bloody as he twirled it between his fingers several feet away. His head was thrown back in laughter, taunting her. The poor tiefling's shirt was cut to ribbons, the pool of blood around him growing.

 

"Got a soft spot for devils, little girl? Lotsa folks do. Pay a high price for 'em. Nobody wanted this one, though. Too loud. Disobedient. So we thought we'd have some fun with him first," the Goliath said with a slimy grin.

 

It was then that she noticed his necklace: the long, curled tip of the tiefling's horn that was now a pendant on a chain.

 

From his corner, Caleb held up the copper wire again. " _Bitte_ , hurry."

 

In that moment, she didn’t see the blade of an axe at the end of the man’s arm, but the long, wicked glaive that had taken her friend from her. Beau's vision went dark and fuzzy around the edges. Her teeth ground together, her bloody fists clenched so tightly that they turned white. She snatched her staff from the ground, circled around and jabbed the end where she knew the elf's kidney would be. He let out a cry and she swung the staff into his rib cage, cracking several. The elf landed on his back, and Beau brought the stick down, crushing his windpipe.

 

"One," she spat, turning on her heel and staring down the Goliath, a cat stalking its prey.

 

Beau picked up the fallen elf's sword with one hand, her staff in the other.

 

She ran at him and launched the blade straight at his chest like a knight in a jousting tournament. The leader deflected it with the axe he carried instead of a hand, chuckling.

 

"Or maybe it's not just the little horned bastards. Maybe you just want to play the hero. Save people? Make the world a better place?" he said derisively. They were circling each other now, barely two feet apart, waiting for the other to make the next move. Caleb sent a magic missile at the Goliath, but he shrugged it off as one would a mosquito bite.

 

Incensed, Beau yelled, "Leave it, Caleb! This fucker's mine!"

 

"Ooh, possessive," her opponent crooned. "Are you in it for the glory, then? The money? Need to prove yourself to someone?"

 

She bared her teeth in a snarl, her eyes narrowing to barely more than slits. The Goliath barked out a laugh.

 

"What a feisty little kitten."

 

Beau lunged forward, aiming her staff at his neck. It connected, but he reached out at the same time with an open palm and slammed into her sternum, using the momentum to pin her to the ground, his massive body on top of her.

 

She struggled valiantly, kicking her legs furiously and shoving at his tree trunk like arms, but it was no use.

 

"Careful, sweetheart," he laughed, bringing the axe down next to her shoulder and trapping her further with his elbow. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Caleb coming closer. The leader nuzzled against her face with his own, his rancid breath making her stomach roil. Undeterred and full of rage, she opened her mouth and sank her teeth into his neck as hard as possible. He recoiled with a shout, and Beau took the opportunity to ram her knee into his gut with as much force as she could muster, knocking him off balance. She rolled sideways and scrambled up. The Goliath managed to slice across her back with the dagger, eliciting a curse as she spun around. He clambered back to his feet, finally losing his composure, clutching his bloody neck.

 

"You dirty, rotten, _whore_!" he roared, swinging his axe arm wildly and charging at her.

 

Beau grinned wolfishly and spat out the chunk of his flesh, swiping her tongue across her lips, only incensing the Goliath further. She ducked beneath his arm and socked him in the stomach as he passed. It didn't seem to faze him much, but she didn't care. Her blood was boiling; Beau wanted to dish out as much pain as she could to this monster. Her vision was still spotty, her pulse racing, blood rushing in her ears. It felt like she could run at the speed of light; she was invincible, no matter how big and muscular her opponent was.

 

The ringleader veered off to the right after missing his target and instead locked eyes on Caleb. The wizard had been hanging back, anxiously waiting to see if he needed to help his friend. He started to backpedal now, noticing the larger man's trajectory. Beau leapt forward, grabbing her staff from the ground and thrust it in front of the Goliath's ankles. He dropped like a felled tree, the dagger leaving his grasp and skittering a foot or so across the cavern floor.

 

Beau reached for it, but the ringleader batted her hand away with his axe as he tried to get upright once more. She felt her anger erupt like a geyser where it had been simmering in her veins before. She let the rage course through her, further losing control and giving way to instinct from long years with the Cobalt Soul and getting into drunken bar fights. She shoved into the goliath's chest, scrambling on top of him, holding down his shoulders with her knees and pressing into his neck with her thighs. He tried to attack with his axe, but the angle was off so it was mostly just leaving minor scratches on her back. His already damaged throat was struggling to pull in enough air as she pummeled his face.

 

Right fist to the jaw, left fist to the nose, right fist to the eye, left fist to the upper lip, right fist to the lower lip, left fist to the other eye - all in quick succession, over and over. The Goliath was looking rough and desperate, finally seeming to realize who had disabled all of his companions. He started to roll side to side, trying to either crush or dislodge her, but Beau wouldn't give up, her enmity for the larger man pushing her onward when she might have otherwise been tired out. She laid into him with her fists as though she could beat compassion into his very skin. All of the stress, frustration, and terror she'd felt since Molly died and their friends were taken seemed to travel through her knuckles and form bruises on his face. He bellowed, at his limit, and threw her backwards over his head, using his legs for the leverage his arms couldn't get. But Beau let out an answering shriek and gouged her strong, nimble fingers into his eyes, gripping on upside down and causing him to scream in agony.

 

"You fuckin' BITCH!" he howled, shaking her off and clutching his bleeding eyes with his only hand, his axe flailing wildly. "I'll kill you for this! Feed your stinkin' corpse to the dogs! Then I'll - "

 

What else he was going to do, she never found out, because while he was distracted, Beau had regained her staff. She poured every ounce of loathing, venom, and grief into the wood as she swung it into him, everywhere she could reach. She distantly wondered if this was what it was like to be possessed. With each strike she felt less human and more like an incarnation of wrath. Beau looked down at the face of a man who'd put people in cages, torn families apart, maimed a helpless man and had probably killed countless others. He tried to say something, his visage filled with contempt, but all that emerged was a wet gurgle. Her anger was a wildfire that could only be satiated with violence, burning everything in its path. In that moment, she wasn’t looking at a Goliath, but it was an Oni, and a different night altogether. This wasn’t just a man who’d hurt people, but had hurt, and _taken_ , and _killed_ – _her_ people. It seemed as though her arms were raised by an unseen puppeteer, commanding her to lift the staff in both hands and plunge it deep into his chest with all her might, a scream ripping itself from her as she did so. The noise was sickening; the blood sprayed all over, coating the stone floor and her boots.

 

Beau stilled for a moment, gaze traveling around the cavern at the petrified faces of those behind bars, daring anyone to come out and challenge her. It was possible there were still more bandits, and they would meet the same end as their leader if they showed their faces. It was a shock, then, when a hand fell on her shoulder. She spun on one heel, pulling the staff out of the dead man's chest cavity with a disgusting sucking sound and pointing it at her new opponent. No, wait - it was Caleb. Why was he looking at her like that?

 

"Beauregard, it is alright now. You can put it down," he said softly.

 

She didn't move. It felt like her thoughts were moving through molasses.

 

"Are you hurt? That is...an awful lot of blood," he added, eyeing her soiled clothes.

 

She stayed where she was, hands rigidly gripping her weapon, spine ramrod straight. Suddenly, Caleb reached for the staff as though to take it from her, and she snapped. Beau pulled back, surprising him, and drove the blunt end of it into his chest, knocking him to the ground and expelling the air from his lungs. Caleb let out a cry as his back and skull collided with the jagged ground. Some of the blood from the end of the staff had splattered onto his face.

 

Just at that moment, the other four of the Mighty Nein came racing in, Caduceus and Jester absolutely obliterating the crate hiding the entrance (later, no one was sure whether this had been on purpose or not).

 

"Beau?" called Fjord, concerned.

 

"Caleb!" Nott squealed in alarm. She ran to him and clutched his shoulder, glancing up at the monk with hurt and confusion plain on her features. "Beau...what did you do?"

 

They stared at each other silently for a few long moments.

 

Then the puppeteer cut the strings, and suddenly Beau collapsed to her knees, eyes hollow, posture slumped. The others rushed forward, circling around the three of them but still leaving a few feet of space. Caleb gently shrugged Nott off, waving away her warning look, and bent over Beau, wrapping his arms around her. He lowered his lips to her ear and whispered, "Hey. Let's take a walk."

 

The wizard exchanged a knowing look with Fjord, and he immediately drew everyone’s attention from the humans.

 

“Let’s give ‘em some space, folks. We need to look for Nessa and get the rest of them out of these damned cages. Nott – start pickin’ locks. Jester and Clay, heal anybody who’s hurt. Starting with this fella over here,” he said, pointing to the injured tiefling. Caleb hoped he was alive; not only for the man’s own sake, but also because Beau had tried so hard to save him. As the other party members got to work, Caleb pulled Beauregard up by the elbow and led her away to the side of the cave they hadn’t yet discovered. He thought he’d heard running water earlier, and he was right: a tiny stream ran along the edge, disappearing into a crevice too small for most creatures to follow.

 

Caleb recast his dancing lights, letting the four globules hover high above them to banish the gloom and shadows. He guided the monk to sit by the edge of the stream, and when he was met with no resistance, started to unwrap the fabric covering her arms and hands. At this she finally looked up at him, seeming to come back to herself somewhat.

 

“Caleb?” she asked uncertainly.

 

“ _Ja_ , it’s me. Are you hurt?” he said. Beau shook her head.

 

“That is… _ein Haufen scheisse_ , Beauregard. I am looking at your broken nose.”

 

“Oh. It’s fine,” she said, her voice very small. She had started shaking slightly.

 

“It is not. But it will be…eventually,” he reassured her. “How about we start with cleaning off some of this blood?”

 

She didn’t agree, but she didn’t protest, so Caleb took that as a good sign. He finished removing her arm wraps and moved on to her blood drenched boots. With some coaxing, she shrugged off her long, flowy vest so that he could soak the end in the water. Even he had to admit the wraps were probably a lost cause, though.

 

As someone who was not known for frequenting the bath house, he had certainly never needed to bathe anyone else before. Caleb decided this would work best if they both removed some layers. He would normally be more hesitant, but Beauregard already knew his deepest secrets, and she didn’t seem to be in the mood to poke fun at his skinny ankles. He kicked off his boots and removed his gloves and arm wraps as well, leaving them against the cave wall with his coat. Afterward, he rolled up his pants a bit and scooted forward so that the water was up to his shins. Beauregard scooted forward to match him, kicking her legs back and forth slowly. Caleb took this as a good sign.

 

“You look like shit, you know,” he announced, trying a different tactic. She merely gave him a sideways glance, unperturbed. _Now that is unusual_ , he thought.

 

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” she whispered. Caleb felt something in his chest tighten.

 

“You also saved me two minutes before that, so it balances out,” he replied, attempting to joke. She said nothing.

 

“Even if you hadn’t, Beauregard, it would not matter. I understand. We are all in a…rough place, since…everything that’s happened. I don’t blame you at all.”

 

“You should.”

 

“I do not. My friend, you saved so many people today. They can go home to their lives and families now, because you freed them when I wanted to run,” Caleb insisted.

 

“Only because I was being selfish! I didn’t leave them because I couldn’t bear the guilt if I did. I saw that tiefling and it was like seeing Molly all over again. I couldn’t take it if we failed these poor bastards like we failed…like we failed…” she couldn’t bring herself to say the rest. All at once Beau found herself shaking like a leaf, unable to get enough air. She was gasping like that Goliath had been, and there was something wrong with her sight. She must have gotten a cut on her forehead that was still bleeding because suddenly she was blinking furiously, trying to clear the wetness from her eyes. Beau felt her heart pounding as though she was still fighting the thugs. Was this what dying was like?

 

She flinched as strong hands gripped her shoulders.

 

“Breathe with me. In, out. In, out. In, out.”

 

She did as she was told, and her breathing eased. It occurred to Beau that tears were obscuring her vision, not blood. With that realization, the floodgates opened up. Sobs tore out of her, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. She hugged herself, curling forward and hiding her face. Her chest heaved as she wept, once again gasping for air. Caleb’s left hand began to trace wide circles on her back, wanting to offer comfort without spooking her. After a few more minutes, he pulled her closer, Beau’s head resting on his shoulder as she cried herself out. He was afraid if she shook any harder, she might shatter into a thousand pieces.

 

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked quietly, and the question broke Caleb’s heart more than the tears. 

 

“Possibly many things, but this is not one of them,” he answered firmly.

 

“I’m just still so angry. _All_ _the_ _time_. I thought when we killed Lorenzo, I’d feel better. But no – I can’t sleep because when I close my eyes, I see his face. Or I see him torturing our friends. Or I see Molly – his coat – his eyes -” Beau said all in a rush, cutting off abruptly.

 

“I know the feeling,” Caleb murmured, nodding.

 

“DO YOU?! Do you wanna bring that motherfucker back from the dead just so we can kill him again? Do you wish you were drunk or fighting someone every minute of every day, because what else are we supposed to do now? I see somebody with horns or a tail in the street and I think it’s him, even though it can’t be. Do you think about all the times you ever called him obnoxious just for being happy?” she roared, her hands balling into fists.

 

Caleb said nothing, just looking at her sadly.

 

“Do you think about how much Yasha’s hurting and wonder if she’ll ever come back? We let her down! We were supposed to _protect_ him! Jester and Fjord were the first friends I ever made on my own, and I was fucking sleeping while they were _being_ _kidnapped_! Do you think about the fact that he was only alive for two years? He was basically an overgrown toddler, and he threw it away. He saved me, and…I don’t know why. Do you ever think that…that he should be alive, instead of you?”

 

Something wrapped itself around Caleb’s guts and _twisted_.

 

“I just…want to hear him call me ‘unpleasant’…one more time,” she said, her voice raw.

 

Caleb was suddenly reminded of how young and fragile Beau really was. She acted tough and intimidating, but was just barely into adulthood. He chided himself inwardly for ever having believed she was cold or uncaring.

 

“I think about all of those things, Beauregard. We’ve been through a lot of shit. It is okay to be angry,”

 

“It’s not fair. It’s not _right_ ,” she whispered.

 

“Life rarely is.”

 

“So what the hell is the point?! Bad people die, good people die too, there’s no rhyme or reason to it? What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?!” she shouted.

 

Caleb thought for a minute. In the back of his mind, he saw flames, cell bars, Academy robes, the open pages of a book, a tiny green hand reaching out, a cat from long ago.

 

“You said it yourself, in front of his grave. We do what he would have wanted us to do. Leave places better than we find them. Create joy. _Feel_ joy. _Live_ ,” he said finally, his throat tight. A few more tears leaked out from under her closed eyelids.

 

“I really _miss_ that purple piece of shit, Caleb,” she choked out, anguished.

 

“ _Ja_. I do, too.”

 

They sat like that for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts. Suddenly, Caleb looked up. He thought again about what Molly would have wanted, and decided they’d had enough despair for one day.

 

“Beauregard?” he said tentatively.

 

“Uh…yeah?” she replied, unsure.

 

“Speaking of which…” he started, and then shoved forward against her back with all of his strength, forcing her into the stream. Beau shrieked as she hit the cold water.

 

“What the fuck, man?!” she spluttered. Caleb burst out laughing, his head falling back, surprising both of them. She had never seen him give a full body laugh like that, and couldn’t help but smile.

 

“That’s for hitting me with your staff,” he said smugly. “Besides, you still had blood all over you!”

 

“Oh yeah? Wanna play it that way?” she said, and pulled him in by his ankles. Caleb let out a surprised yelp as he went down. 

 

They were both splashing each other like school children when Fjord and Nott came over to investigate.

 

“What in the _hell_ are you two doing in there?” he asked, a hand on his hip, one eyebrow raised.

 

“Uh…washing the guts off, dude,” Beau said, as though this should be obvious.

 

“Look what you’ve done to Caleb! He’s _clean_!” Nott pointed out, affronted.

 

“There was a _lot_ of blood, you know,” the wizard said, a little defensively. All the commotion attracted Caduceus and Jester, the latter of whom was sporting a delighted grin.

 

“Caleb, you’ll smell so much better now! Beau, are we going swimming? Can I come, too?” she said, before Fjord held out an arm in front of her.

 

“No way. In case y’all have forgotten, we have some survivors to escort out?” the half Orc said testily. “You two, get dried off. The rest of you can come help me round everybody up and grab some of these supplies.”

 

Once the other four were gone and they’d climbed out of the stream, Beau turned to Caleb once more, wringing out her pants.

 

“Hey, uh…thanks, man. For today. Er, all of it, really,” she said, looking at her toes.

 

“It was nothing. Thanks for…not letting that woman bash my skull in with a mace,” he replied bluntly.

 

“We’ve really got to get you some armor or something. If you try to die on me, so help me, I will resurrect you just to kick your ass myself.”

 

“I will do my best,” he said, only _slightly_ alarmed.

 

“I’ve got to have someone to keep me straight,” she said, softer. Caleb smirked at the inside joke.

 

“We’ll keep each other straight,” he agreed.

 

They weren’t okay. Not yet – but they would be.

**Author's Note:**

> Ayyyyyyy, back on my bullshit! I'm still bouncing between the five stages of grief after episode 26 and I just...needed to write this. I'm planning a sequel/alternate ending to bring Molly back (also in the middle of the sequel to "Stay Awake" so we'll see how that goes), because you know what, I can. This is the second fanfic I've written so I'm still getting the hang of it. I still don't know what formatting is, and at this point, I'm too afraid to ask. 
> 
> Feel free to leave a comment or kudos if you liked it! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Huge thank you to @rathernoon for reading over this first. I'm Violetrayofsunshine on Tumblr - come talk to me about stuff!
> 
> Finally, I would like to thank God and also Jesus for the gift that is Marisha Ray.


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